


Re:Try

by Decipher (Straggler)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Because of course he does, Gen, Hank Anderson Swears, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straggler/pseuds/Decipher
Summary: He sees an average of 1 human per 8 minutes enter the shop, most do not purchase anything but those that do leave with a pale purple bag with the shop name in front in gold cursive: The Gallery.Connor returns to idle mode.(This one-shot was written with the idea that Model: RK800 is a regular android that, for the purpose of this story, is a model for a clothing store. Hank Anderson features as the mall security officer.)
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 23
Kudos: 101





	Re:Try

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this story doesn't come out as severely out of character. I've watched the play-through a few times and while I'd like to think I kept them pretty loyal to the game-play I know I'm unlikely to get the portrayals perfect, especially because of the nature of the game that allows you to take different routes and invoke different emotions depending on your play-style. 
> 
> ...
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy reading it anyway.

**MODEL: RK800**   
**SERIAL#: 313 248 317**   
**BOOTING...**

**LOADING OS...**   
**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...**   
**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... OK**   
**INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS... OK**   
**INITIALIZING AI ENGINE... OK**

**MEMORY STATUS...**   
**ALL SYSTEMS PENDING: PROGRAMS MISSING [LOW PRIORITY]**

**READY**

A human woman stands in front of them - Caucasian, slim build, average height, brunette hair tied up in a bun, green eyes, age: 37, name: Helena Lockley - and speaks.

'Huh, I thought we got the one with the grey eyes?' She says to nobody over her shoulder though she trails her eyes up and down their chassis, a small furrow across her brows and a small purse on her lips. 

**EMOTION IDENTIFIED: DISAPPOINTMENT**

The room has two doors, one gun-metal grey and one white, multiple shelves and storage containers within the small 10 by 3 feet room with each shelf piled up with boxes all the way to the ceiling. There are pen marks scrawled across some and paper taped on others with notes scribbled on top. Most of the boxes have been opened and haphazardly closed but there are the occasional few still taped shut.

'Does it matter? They all look the same,' a new person walks into the room with a clipboard in hand - male, Caucasian, overweight, average height, greying blond hair, balding, hazel eyes, age: 51, name: Michael Harris. 'Get them up and running and changed; we're opening up in an hour and we've still got two more androids to get ready,' he tells the woman as he looks back down at his clipboard and then pulls out a box from the bottom shelf near him, glances inside and kicks it over towards them. 'Catalogue in here is good enough - make it work.'

'Alright,' she says brightly although the roll of her eyes belie her tone. 'RK800, register your name: Connor.'

'My name is Connor.'

\---

He's given dark grey jeans to wear, black boots, black belt, a light grey button-up and a deep blue double breasted wool coat.

At first the woman tells Connor to leave the coat unbuttoned, then changes her mind after a critical look and says to button it up, then after another glance tells them to unbutton again.

'Stand over there while I get the other two sorted,' she points to the space next to the white door leading into the other room and starts going through the box that was given to her, picking up and putting down random articles of clothing - a blue dress shirt, black distressed jeans, a maroon short-sleeved button-up - and eventually settles on a white dress shirt with black lining along the cuffs and on the collar. She gestures to an LM100 (name registered: Eli) and proceeds to do the same thing as she'd done with Connor, giving them clothes and changing the look as she sees fit.

He idles for 27 minutes and 16 seconds before the final android - an ST200 name registered as Naomi - is ready and she tells them all to follow her through the door.

The lighting changes from fluorescent white to warm white as they're led out from behind a counter, between racks of clothing, past cream colored pedestals where other androids dressed in their wares are displayed, towards the front where an empty 3-tiered white plinth is located.

She gestures to the ST200, Naomi, and tells her to go on the top tier and directs her how to stand and where to look. She tells the LM100, Eli, to take the middle tier and sit down with one foot on the edge of the lowest pillar and keep his head down. She tells Connor to take the last tier, hands in his pockets, thumbs out.

'Loosen your posture,' she tells him.

He shifts his weight predominantly to his right leg and adopts a slight hunch to his shoulders, head tilted 10 degrees to the side.

'Perfect. Nice and casual.'

She leaves them there without another word.

He idles for 21 minutes and 42 seconds before he hears the beginnings of conversation from other humans passing by the shop filter into his audio processor with more strolling through the atrium across and on the floor above them. The food courts on the level below them starts to grow busy as well, seats beginning to fill up as people come in for breakfast. He sees an average of 1 human per 8 minutes enter the shop, most do not purchase anything but those that do leave with a pale purple bag with the shop name in front in gold cursive: The Gallery.

Connor returns to idle mode.

\---

'Fucking hell, I swear these new androids are just getting creepier.'

Connor comes out of idle and notices that the shops around them are dark and only a small number of floor lights are left switched on. He hears a low bark and sees a middle-aged man dressed in a deep-blue uniform one shop away with a saint bernard on a leash next to him. Stitched on his back are the words: MALL SECURITY in white. He carries a service pistol, a hand torch and a baton on his belt. 

'I miss the days when people just used mannequins. Now they move and shit. Crazy world, huh?' 

The dog barks in reply.

When they are four shops away, Connor returns to idle mode.

\---

'Have you got anymore of the jacket that android is wearing?' Connor hears someone ask, the proximity of their voice pulling him out of standby, the speaker coming closer towards the plinth he's standing on. 'I tried looking around the shop but I can't find it anywhere.'

'Ah! This is the last of it that we have. You look like the same size, would you like to try it on? I think it would suit you quite well,' another staff member - female, mixed Asian-Caucasian, slim build, average height, dark brown eyes, age: 24, name: Carol Lee - says with a perky voice as they stand in front of Connor.

'Yeah, looks good. Reckon I can fit it.'

She nods and turns to the android straight-faced, 'Connor, take off the jacket.'

He takes it off and hands it to her. 

Her smile returns on her face as she hands the coat to the customer and accepts the brown jacket he's wearing in exchange. She tells the man the coat is great as casual wear or business dress as he touches the material, sticks up the collar and runs his hands down along the front. He buttons it up, rotates his shoulders and twists at his hips while she tells him the mix of polyester, cotton and wool blend of the fabric.

'It's also water-resistant!' She adds on as the man sticks his hands into the pockets and hums contentedly.

'Sounds great. I'll take it.'

'Excellent! I really do think it looks great on you. Come this way and I'll ring it up for you,' she says as she gestures for the man to go towards the counter. She turns to Connor and tells him, 'Go to the back and I'll get you another jacket to display,' before walking away.

Connor steps down from the plinth and walks around the other androids, steps past the clothing racks, behind the counter into the storage room. He stands there for approximately 4 minutes and 27 seconds before the woman comes back and starts looking through the other boxes, going through 2 before deciding on what she wants. She hands him a grey winter coat and tells him to put it on and button up, then changes her mind and tells him to unbutton.

'Go back to the front and resume your position.'

'Understood.'

He does as he's told.

\---

Connor comes out of idle mode at the sound of a high-pitched whine. He turns to the source and sees the saint bernard sitting in front of a YK400 child android two shops away, looking dolefully up at his owner. The man's eyes are soft, his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his lips downturn. There is a glassy look to his eyes and his posture seems tired, withdrawn.

**EMOTION IDENTIFIED: SORROW**

From this angle Connor can see he's 53 years old, Caucasian, overweight, tall, blue eyes, with greying unkempt hair and equally greying unkempt beard. There's a plastic security badge on the front left breast pocket: Hank Anderson.

The man sighs, his voice low and mournful, 'I miss him, too.' Then reluctantly tugs the dog along and they continue their routine patrol. The soft smell of alcohol is present as they walk by.

After they are past five shops does Connor return to idle mode.

\---

1 hour and 16 minutes before the opening time, approximately 6 days into his activation, he hears footsteps coming up to the 3-tier plinth where he and 2 other androids currently occupy. Helena Lockley appears in his peripheral vision and tells the ST200, Naomi, to go to the back and change wardrobe. The android is gone for 11 minutes and 42 seconds before she returns wearing white open-toed heels, a white floral dress with white lace sleeves, a beige sunhat and two charms on her left wrist. Helena tells the LM100 to get off the plinth as she puts up a light grey bar stool onto the middle tier for the ST200 and poses the android to sit on it. They go through 3 more versions, both with and without the chair, before Helena settles on one she likes and hands the ST200 a pair of shades to put on.

The same is done to the LM100, Eli, and he is gone for 14 minutes and 46 seconds before he returns wearing grey slacks, a white turtle neck and matching grey suit jacket and stands on the tallest display box.

'Connor, go to the back and take off your clothes,' Helena says as she hands the LM100 a pair of copper aviators and goes through some more minor posing adjustments with the other android.

'Understood.'

He steps off and makes his way to the back. Once he's through the doors he goes to stand in the place where he was first activated, taking off the grey winter coat, light grey button-up, black belt, black boots and dark grey jeans. He folds them, keeps them in his hands and waits.

He waits for 2 minutes and 38 seconds before Helena comes through, takes the clothes from his hands and throws them into the box next to her on top of the other clothes the previous androids wore.

She gives him polished brogue dress shoes, deep blue jeans, black long-sleeve top, black leather jacket and a wrist watch.

'Go to the front and stand on the display,' she tells him as she closes the other boxes and stacks them one on top of another haphazardly.

'Understood.'

Connor resumes the same position he was given prior and doesn't move until Helena returns and tells him to straighten his back, take one hand out of his pockets, legs straight. She poses him so that his body is turned to the side but his face is turned to the front, eyes focused in the middle distance.

Helena hums and disappears from his view.

It is 38 minutes and 15 seconds before the shop is opened and humans begin to occupy the building another day.

Connor returns to idle mode.

\---

He detects movement in his optics and comes out of standby to see the mall security officer and dog stop in front of him. There's a contemplative look on the man's face as he eyes the clothes Connor is wearing.

'Jacket looks kinda nice. I mean, I could always just repair the one I've already got,' he says as he turns his attention to the saint bernard, 'Why'd ya have to rip up the lining, huh? That jacket never did you wrong,' he scolds although there's a smile on his face as he tells off his dog, reaching down to pat the dog's head and ears. 

**EMOTION IDENTIFIED: PLAYFUL**

The dog barks, his tail wagging as he looks between his owner and Connor.

'What do you think, Sumo? A new jacket or more booze to fill the house with?'

Connor blinks, 'I think it would suit you quite well,' he says, mimicking the words of Carol Lee.

The man shouts and jumps away in surprise, as does his dog, and begins to swear and curse, his heart rate elevated at the unexpected shock. 'Fucking hell, I actually forgot you guys aren't mannequins,' he grumbles as he pats his chest, thumping it with the heel of his palm twice as if to reset his heartbeat back to normal.

'My apologies; I did not mean to startle you,' he softens his voice as he turns his attention to the dog that is still occasionally letting out a huff and a half-hearted growl as he looks between his owner and the android.

Hank clicks his tongue in distaste as he pulls a little on the leash, 'Go back to how you were before, asshole,' he growls out as he walks away with the dog, muttering under his breath.

Connor watches them until they turn around the corner then does as ordered.

**HANK ANDERSON: TENSE**

\---

He comes out of idle mode again 22 hours and 28 minutes later to the sounds of another high-pitched whine followed by soft whimpers. A low tired sigh escapes the man as he speaks quietly to his dog, 'I know; I miss Cole, too.'

They are in front of the YK400 child android for another 6 minutes and 18 seconds before Hank gently pulls on the leash and they continue on their nightly patrol. When they come nearer to Connor he asks him, 'Who is Cole?'

A deep frown immediately appears on the man's face and creases form between his eyebrows and line his forehead. Hank turns a sharp finger at the android and snarls at him, 'None of your fucking business, fucking android.'

**EMOTION IDENTIFIED: RAGE**

'Sorry,' he tries to appease but the man just snorts at him and leaves without another word.

Connor resumes his position and doesn't watch them go.

\---

'Holy crap, I'm getting fat; can't fit into this goddamn suit. Haven't they got anything bigger?' A male customer complains behind him on his right side, grunting with difficulty.

'We can ask? They might have more at the back,' a female voice says, her heels clicking behind her going further into the shop. 'Excuse me, hey, do you guys have anymore stock of the grey suit, like the one that android is wearing?'

'Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am, a few of our shipments are late. If you'd like, we can take down your details and let you know when it arrives.'

The female hums, 'Do you know when it'll get here by? We're supposed to be attending a party Friday night and we'd really like the suit by that morning.'

'We'll make some calls and see if we can fast-track it for you. If you give me your name and number we'll let you know by the end of the day if we can have it ready for you by tomorrow.'

'Cool! Thanks!' Her voice perks up as she rattles off her name and number. 

They are inside the shop for another 7 minutes and 16 seconds before they leave, the boyfriend contemplating if he should pick up a gym membership.

'We could go together,' the woman tells him excitedly, 'It'll be fun!'

Connor listens to their conversation until it fades into the background. He idles for 3 hours and 52 minutes before he hears another voice come up behind him next to the 3-tier plinth and say, 'I want everything that android is wearing; we're the same size.'

'Of course, ma'am. Let me gather those up for you,' a male staff member says as the soles of his feet hurry off deeper into the shop. 'Carol, get the same size dress and shoes the ST200 is wearing. I'll get the hat, sunnies and charms.'

'On it.'

It takes the two staff members 4 minutes and 28 seconds to gather the five items and show them to the customer. 'Is there anything else we can help you with today, ma'am?'

'No, just put them through; I'm in a hurry.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

It takes 1 minute and 5 seconds to complete the transaction. The woman - Asian, lean build, tall, long black hair, dark brown eyes, age: 39, name: Teresa Cho - leaves the shop holding 2 pale purple bags with 'The Gallery' written on it in gold cursive. As soon as the customer is out of sight, the male staff member mutters, 'Bitch,' under his breath and Carol laughs.

Connor returns to standby. When he comes out of it the next day, he notes in his memory banks that he did not see Hank Anderson or Sumo during the night. Another man - Hispanic, medium build, average height, black hair, dark brown eyes, age: 46, name: Carlos Lopez - had walked through the mall instead, whistling and waving his baton around as he strolled casually past the shops.

\---

He comes out of idle mode to the familiar sounds of nails clicking on the smooth tile flooring and sees two familiar figures enter his peripheral vision. The dog barks, his tail wagging excitedly and manages to come right up to the plinth Connor is standing on. Hank swears a little and pulls him back. 

'Down, boy, I can't afford to pay for the dry cleaning.'

Connor can feel the wet breath across the back of his hand and he reaches out and leans down a little until his fingers graze along the fur on Sumo's head. 

'Hey, hands off,' Hank growls as he pulls Sumo back gently by the collar, the soft texture of his fur disappearing from under Connor's fingertips. 'Didn't know androids could like dogs.'

'Well, I don't know if I do, but I'd like to find out.'

Something loosens in the other man's posture as he eyes the android. There's a slight furrow in his eyebrows and a small puckering of his lips although he doesn't look angry.

**EMOTION IDENTIFIED: CONTEMPLATIVE**

'Why are you so different from the other androids? I've worked here for years and none of them have ever said a word to me.'

Between them, Sumo whines for attention.

'I don't know,' Connor says after a 3.6 second pause, 'I've noted that I am missing certain programs within my systems although it doesn't hinder me from my current duty. Perhaps I was programmed to fulfill a different role but it didn't go through in the end.'

'A different role, huh?' Hank says as his eyes grow unfocused for 4.9 seconds before he blinks and comes back to the present. He shakes his head and pulls Sumo away from Connor to continue their patrol. The dog whines with almost every step and Hank shushes him by rubbing down his head and patting the side of his ribs.

Connor watches them go until they disappear around the corner before he resumes his normal position. 

**HANK ANDERSON: NEUTRAL**

\---

'Awh, man, what happened to getting the RK900?' 

There is a woman - Mexican-American, slim build, short, black hair with brown highlights, brown eyes, age: 29, name: Melissa Garcia - standing in front of him and he can see the disappointment clear in her face and in her body language as she stares into his eyes.

'The RK900 is worth over ten-grand; they're not gonna fork over that kinda money when they can get a used RK800 who looks the same for a fraction of the price,' a male voice tells her from somewhere to the right of where Connor stand, 'It's all about the profits, baby.'

She sticks her tongue out in disgust and gags in reply. 'Yuck, Nate, don't call me baby,' she says as she walks around the display back into the shop. 'Come on, we gotta do stock rotation before we open up.'

'Well, that's what I've been doing while you were standing in front of the RK800 being all judgy.'

'Oh, shut up,' she tells him although the playful tone belies the command.

Connor notes that this is the second instance where he is found wanting since his activation approximately 27 days ago and he doesn't understand why.

\---

'...gonna fucking explode or something. I feel fucking awful,' Hank grumbles as he walks gingerly, rubbing his sternum with the heel of his palm and a grimace on his face. Next to him, Sumo whines and walks slowly to match his speed. Every other step Hank lets out a sound between an aborted burp and a pained groan.

**EMOTION IDENTIFIED: UNCOMFORTABLE**

'Perhaps it is your diet as you have consistently visited Chicken Feed in the food-court for dinner before your shift for as long as I have been activated.'

'Fuck off with the nagging,' he snaps half-heartedly as he keeps walking past with Sumo in tow even as the dog barks at Connor, his tail wagging and tongue lolling out.

'May I suggest Rose's Pantry next door instead?' He raises his voice to carry it to Hank as the man continues on his patrol. 'Their menu boasts to be the next best thing to home-cooked meals and their food grade is significantly better.'

Connor hears Hank huff as he walks away, Sumo mimicking with a huff of his own before they both disappear around the corner.

He contemplates their interaction and sees a slow upward trend in their relationship. He thinks it may improve to eventually allow him one day to pet Sumo. He listens until the click of the dog's nails on the tiles fade away before he resumes idle mode again.

\---

9 minutes and 28 seconds after the mall opens in the morning, a familiar shape appears in his periphery, disappears into the shop and exits 4 minutes and 19 seconds later with a pale purple bag. Connor wonders where Sumo is.

\---

A bark wakes him from standby and he turns his head to see Hank already two shops away from where he models, dragging a reluctant Sumo behind him. His head is down, posture tense. 

The smell of alcohol wafts from him, barely there by human standards but Connor can pick it up easily. He recalls the man's habit of doing his routine patrols smelling of alcohol an average of once a week.

He hears Sumo's whine but can no longer see them.

It is not the first time Hank doesn't make conversation with him but he replays the memory of the other man walking past him: head low, shoulders high but hunched forward, the tight grip on the leash, knuckles white, smelling of alcohol and unwashed hair. Connor does not know what face Hank was making but he presumes he would be frowning, his lips turned down and a deep furrow between his eyebrows.

**EMOTION THEORIZED: STRESSED?**

The next two nights follows the same pattern: Hank walks past, Sumo whines, a rising presence of alcohol, a dip in personal hygiene.

The third night is broken with the appearance of the other security mall officer: Carlos Lopez. He is on the phone as he swings his baton around, making conversation with the recipient and laughing occasionally, making plans for the weekend for a picnic at the beach if the weather holds up. Connor picks up the excited squeal of a young girl, perhaps the daughter, as the man continues on his patrol. He listens to them chat about the food they can make together: egg and cucumber sandwiches, hummus and crackers, potato and bacon salad.

Connor looks up beaches, goes through multiple references and sees most beaches are pet friendly. There are thousands upon thousands of results for dogs playing on the beach, rolling in the sand, playing with their owners. He finds one of a saint bernard, wet from the ocean, flotsam still clinging to them, two tennis balls in its mouth and refusing to play catch the normal way. He wonders if Sumo has ever been to the beach before.

\---

The smell is strongest tonight than it's ever been. There's a slight sway in Hank's movements, his fingers loose on the leash that Sumo can break easily if he so chooses but he remains loyally by the man's side, huffing and snuffing as they walk.

Hank looks pale except for the slight hint of pink on his cheeks and the dark shadows beneath his glassy eyes. He does not look well and Connor knows this is the result of too much alcohol within the body.

'I feel it is pertinent to inform you that it is unwise to continue to come to work while under the influence of alcohol if you wish to remain employed.'

The man stops next to him and his formerly loose posture tightens considerably fast, hands quickly turned into fists and shaking from the strain. Hank's eyes are still glassy but there is rage within them now that he'd only seen once before and Connor can sense his level of stress rising in preparation for what may come.

**POSSIBILITY OF VIOLENCE: 38%**

'I'll make you shut down if you don't _shut up_ ; nobody asked you, fucking android. Stop pissing me off or things are gonna get nasty,' the man threatens, his voice low and menacing, and immediately leaves.

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 59%**

While it is not unusual for Hank to become angry at Connor, it is the first time he has experienced a spike in his stress levels at the other man's fury. Hank is prone to shifts in temperament, has a disposition for anger, but he has never threatened physical violence before.

Connor slowly resumes his position and finds that the departure of Hank and Sumo's presence has lowered his stress levels considerably although it does not fade away entirely. It spikes again when he sees them on the floor below within the empty and closed food-courts but peaks at a meager 37%. Even after they are gone from his senses, it remains at a steady 25%.

**HANK ANDERSON: HOSTILE**

\---

'You three, get off the display,' a male - Indian-American, lean build, tall, long black hair, brown eyes, age: 27, name Nathan Khan - comes up to them holding a wet rag smelling of disinfectant. 

They follow instructions and idle for 1 minute and 18 seconds before they're ordered to resume their previous position.

\---

There is a faraway whine and Connor sees Hank and Sumo across the atrium, a change in their normal patrol routes. His stress levels rise to 42% at the sight of the other man and he expects confrontation from him although it never arrives - Hank never comes close enough and the night ends with zero interaction, his stress levels dipping back down to 25%.

It is the same the next night and Connor notes the shift in established behavior. Sumo also seems to sense this change and he barks lowly at the sight of Connor from across the way, occasionally fighting the leash but never hard enough to break away from the other man's side. It is only after the third night that he sees a new pattern forming and he comes to the conclusion that Hank Anderson is taking a more circuitous route to evade the shop that he models for. It is a pattern for avoidance. 

**RE-ESTABLISH ROUTINE:**   
**RECONCILE WITH HANK ANDERSON**

Connor decides it would be best to apologize to Hank; his observations from other humans tell him that if one expresses regret and asks for forgiveness the other is sure to follow in the same manner. His systems tell him the colloquial term would be to: make up.

However, the plan does not come to fruition the next night when the other man continues to fulfill his patrols using the new route established 3 nights prior. Connor believes that unless he makes the attempt in the immediate future there is a possibility their relationship will be irreparable. He does not wish for Hank Anderson to remain hostile with him.

'I'm sorry,' he shouts loud enough to be heard. Sumo barks at him from across the way and starts pulling on the leash in Hank's grip who tries to pull him further and further away. 'I'm sorry for making you angry.'

'Act like an android and shut the fuck up,' Hank yells back, although there's a level of exhaustion evident in his tone.

Connor persists, 'I did not mean to anger you. I had been merely concerned for your health and for your job.'

The other man scoffs and glares into the middle distance before he starts storming closer to the android. Perhaps misunderstanding, Sumo's tail starts wagging in excitement, barking once, twice and letting his tongue loll out.

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 48%**

It continues to rise as the other man draws nearer until it hovers between 62% and 63%, fluctuating back and forth. Connor perseveres, 'I'm sorry for my behavior. I didn't mean to be overbearing.'

Hank laughs unkindly, 'Oh, wow, you've even got a brown-nosing apology program. Guys at CyberLife thought of everything, huh?' He says lowly, his tone unimpressed.

'My scans inform me that your cholesterol levels are above normal,' there is also the faintest smell of alcohol but he chooses not to mention it. 'You should take better care of your body, if not for yourself then at least for Sumo.'

Between them the dog perks up at the mention of his name and whines for attention.

Hank shakes his head, and Connor notes that his level of hygiene has improved drastically over the last few nights. 'Everybody's gotta die of something,' he shrugs and then gently tugs on Sumo's leash, signaling their departure.

The dog gives one long, low whine but doesn't fight it, falling into step next to Hank as he continues their patrol.

Connor does not believe he is forgiven but sees that at least their relationship is no longer as bad as it had been previously. He can accept that and sees the window dictating his level of stress drop down to 0% and then disappear completely.

**HANK ANDERSON: TENSE**

\---

56 minutes and 21 seconds prior to opening, approximately 41 days since his activation, Connor, Eli and Naomi are ordered to go to the back for a new wardrobe change. Connor idles for 32 minutes and 18 seconds before it is his turn.

Helena gives him dark grey jeans, a black belt, polished rich brown oxford shoes, a casual t-shirt in grey and a Prussian blue peacoat. He goes through the motion of buttoning up as ordered, unbutton them as ordered and doing up only one button as ordered by her before she settles. She tells him to pop up the collar of the peacoat then promptly changes her mind and gives him a light grey scarf to loop around his neck instead.

They are escorted back out to the 3-tier plinth and she tells Eli to take the highest display, the chair that Naomi had previously occupied taken and stored away. He's told to adopt a casual stance, one hand in the pocket of his trousers and the other hand loose by his side. For Connor, he's told to take the middle plinth and to sit on the edge, one foot resting on the lowest plinth and to lean forward in his seat, elbow on the raised knee and to rest his cheek on the loose fist, his other arm draped over his leg casually. Helena hums, walks around him with a critical eye before she changes her mind and tells him to cross his leg instead and to repeat the same arm and head positions before deeming it satisfactory.

'Keep your eyes down to the ground,' She orders and he complies, listening to her as she tells Naomi to take up the last display and to stand with her hip cocked to the side, one arm crossed over her stomach, the other arm to be held up at a 90 degree angle so she can perch her chin on over her fingers.

Helena eyes her work when she's done and returns inside to fulfill her other duties before they are set to open for the day.

Connor counts 89 pairs of shoes to walk pass the shop before he stops counting, allowing his processors to power down to low. He does not acknowledge other stimulus around him until scuffed and dirtied black sneakers and paws enter his vision. He can hear the excited breathing of the saint bernard and see the pitter-patter of his paws and he stands between himself and Hank, his nails clicking on the tiled floor.

He remains still although he shifts his eyes slightly to better see Sumo who is shaking with the ferocity of his tail wags that it moves his entire body. The dog makes soft huffing noises and makes aborted movements to come closer but knows better than to do so without Hank's permission, having learnt from previous interactions.

Sumo is close enough to touch but Connor does not move.

It is silent for 49 seconds before Hank speaks.

'I bought that jacket. Tried to repair the other one but the lady gave me such a fucking crazy quote to fix it that I figured it would make more sense to just buy a new one.'

'I know,' Connor recalls that particular visit and closes his eyes in memory. Hank had gone into the shop empty-handed, stayed for 4 minutes and 19 seconds before he left with a singular bag. Sumo had not been with him. He remembers Hank complimenting the black leather jacket he had been tasked to display from an earlier encounter which hadn't ended well.

His data of their previous interactions thus far have been largely negative and he believes it would be prudent to behave like Eli and Naomi whom have never once shown an interest in the world around them.

He opens his eyes and resumes looking at the same spot on the ground as he has done so since ordered to 14 hours and 38 minutes ago. He can still see Hank's shoes in his peripheral vision as well as Sumo's paws.

Hank clinks his tongue and huffs. Connor can see his feet shifting, indicating a change in posture. 'What, cat got your tongue or something? Used to have a hard time shutting you up.'

He goes through his memory banks involving Hank Anderson and notes a trend in a majority of them.

'I've found that most of what I say tend to receive a negative reaction from you, based on our previous interactions.'

'Never stopped you before.'

Connor pauses for 2.8 seconds before he quietly informs the other, 'My social modules program dictate that I try not to provoke if I am to maintain a neutral or favorable association with you and Sumo.'

Hank groans and starts muttering under his breath as he starts leading Sumo away, '--shove that social module up where the sun don't shine. Stupid CyberLife people and their stupid programs with their stupid everything.'

The other man keeps grumbling but even his sensors can no longer pick up his words with clarity after he's three shops away.

He thinks he'd failed in some way yet again but he doesn't know what other pathways he can take to improve their interaction, he only knows what topics he must not bring up and to keep away from mentioning.

**SUBJECTS TO AVOID:**   
**COLE**   
**SUMO (DO NOT TOUCH)**   
**CHOLESTEROL LEVELS**   
**ALCOHOL ABUSE**

He has no other frame of reference to draw from. Connor must start back at zero to gain a better understanding of how to communicate in a more positive way with Hank while avoiding the listed subject matters.

**GAIN TRUST:**   
**LEARN MORE ABOUT HANK ANDERSON**

He returns to idle mode with this goal in mind.

\---

It is approximately 4 hours and 19 minutes into the mall's opening hours when Connor's audio processors pick up a nearby conversation between two staffs members, Melissa and Carol. Their tone indicates excitement and he hears them giggle with each other. He cannot see what they are doing but he can hear the click of plastic on metal and the rustle of fabrics bring shifted around.

'I'm so excited. I saw the RK200 is really handsome,' Carol says with a sigh. 'I can't wait to see him.'

Melissa laughs, 'Girl, you thirsty,' she teases and they both break out in laughter.

'I can't believe we're getting new androids so soon. Didn't we just get that one like a month or two ago?'

'He's like, secondhand. The RK200 is brand spanking new.'

'I'd totally spank that.'

'Carol!' Melissa reprimands in a loud whisper that ends in more laughter which stops immediately when a customer walks in. 'Hi! Welcome to The Gallery, is there anything I can help you with?'

'Nah, I'm alright. Just browsing.'

'Cool, let us know if you need anything!'

'Thanks!'

The customer spends 9 minutes and 18 seconds in the shop, trying 4 articles of clothing and buying none of them before they leave. The staff members give the habitual farewell to the customer before resuming their conversation.

'Anyway, there's like, hardly any room left in here for new androids. Did they say which ones they're getting rid of?' Carol asks curiously.

'The AX400, WB200, TR400 and the RK800.'

'Awh, the WB200 was cute.'

'Well, you get to see them for 2 more weeks before they're outta here.'

'Maybe I could buy him.'

Melissa snorts, 'You got three thousand bucks on you?'

'Three thou--I barely have three hundred!'

'Tough luck, girl.'

Connor sees the outstanding goal for Hank Anderson hovering in his optical unit waiting to be fulfilled. After a small amount of deliberation, he dismisses it from his systems queue and returns to idle mode. He has been activated for 45 days and in approximately 2 more weeks he will be sold and reset again.

It is the third time he has been found wanting and he comes to the conclusion that perhaps he is faulty in some way. He doesn't understand why that is.

\---

It is 10 hours and 23 minutes later when external stimulus draw him out of idle mode. He hears the clicking of nails on top of tiled floor drawing nearer and nearer until he can see Sumo's feet at the edge of his vision.

He waits for Hank to stop in front of him before he speaks, 'You will be pleased to know that I may be sold in 14 days; you'll no longer need to bear with my presence.'

Connor is met with silence. It goes on long enough that he breaks his position to look up at Hank. He notes the unkempt hair and untrimmed beard, messy but clean. There is also a lack of alcohol present on the other man so he concludes this must be one of his better days. His eyes are wide though, and his jaw slack in surprise. It takes Hank another 5.7 seconds to recover with a huff, shifting his weight onto one leg and standing with his arms akimbo.

'You sad about that or something?' He retorts, his tone surprisingly calm. Next to him, Sumo lies down, his head looking back and forth between his owner and the android.

'I don't know,' he replies honestly, 'but I imagine I must be; I'll never get to see you or Sumo again.'

At the mention of his name, the dog bounds back up on his feet in excitement, barking once, the sounds of it echoing around them. With a quick hush and flapping hand gesture from Hank, Sumo quiets down and sits back on his haunches, tongue lolling out as he pants.

Hank shakes his head at his dog before turning his attention back to the android. 'Well, maybe something better will come along.'

Connor isn't sure of that, he knows he's been reset prior to being here at the mall. His memories from before are a complete blank. He will not remember Hank or Sumo after 15 more days. The thought does make him sad but there is nothing he can do or change about his predicament.

'I know my presence hasn't been easy to accept but I want you to know that I appreciate having met you and Sumo regardless.'

Hank groans, looking up at the glass ceiling and bringing a hand up to rub at his neck. 'Ah geez, there goes that brown-nosing program of yours again.'

Connor hurries to reassure the other man. 'That's not just my social modules program talking. I really mean that,' he pauses in thought, 'At least, I think I do...'

'Well kid, I guess it's been nice knowing ya,' he says with a half-hearted salute and starts walking away to continue his nightly patrol.

**HANK ANDERSON: NEUTRAL**

He watches them go until they disappear around the corner, until he can no longer hear Sumo's pitter-patter before he resumes his normal position, resting his cheek on his loose fist and keeps his eyes on the ground.

Connor replays a memory: the feeling of wet breath across the back of his hand and the touch of Sumo's fur beneath his finger tips.

It felt soft.

\---

13 minutes and 49 seconds before the mall is set to open, a white 300 GSM paper with the shop's logo printed in the corner is placed next to him declaring his model is up for sale and to inquire inside for more details.

Throughout the day, he picks up conversation regarding the sale of all four androids: the AX400, WB200, TR400 and the RK800. He learns that the AX400 is being sold for a low price of $799 as she is one of their older models and is going for a much cheaper price. The WB200 is going for $2,999 as he's only been activated for less than a year and hasn't been programmed to do much more than model their clothing. The TR400 is priced at $3,799, has been activated for two years but their specialized build makes them ideal for hard labor and heavy lifting work.

'What about the one up the front?' A female voice asks.

'Same as the WB200, which is a steal considering they were $8,999 when they were first released.'

'Wow, okay. Cool.'

'Is there anything else I can help you with?' Helena asks patiently.

'No, thanks a lot, though. I'll chat with my husband about the androids later tonight, see what he says. Thanks again!'

'Have a good day, ma'am!'

'You too!'

Connor spends his day listening to the inquires of each android up for sale and slowly learns more facts of his time prior to his activation at the mall. He thinks to inform Hank of it when he sees him later except it is Carlos Lopez who completes the routine patrol that night instead of the other man. 

He feels disappointed for a few moments before he dismisses the emotion. After all, he's just an android.

Before Carlos Lopez even rounds the corner, Connor is back in idle mode.

\---

The AX400 is sold the next day, purchased by the woman who'd inquired about her the day before. 

The husband is there with her to pick up their purchase. 'We've been wanting an android for a while now but money is a bit tight at the moment so this was kind of a blessing in disguise,' the husband says excitedly while the wife starts to play with the settings of the android's hair and eye color. 'You can hardly find anything cheap at the shops even secondhand anymore.'

'An extra pair of hands to help us when the baby comes along will be so handy,' she gushes and finally settles on blonde hair and gey-green eyes.

'I'm glad we were able to help you out with this. Thanks for your purchase!' Helena says as the husband ushers his wife out and orders the AX400: new name registered: Claire, to follow them out.

Throughout the day 8 more customers come in to inquire about the remaining androids for sale, 1 of them ask if they can put a lay-by on the TR400 because they can't afford to drop nearby four-grand in a single purchase.

'Sure. We can do installments if that's easier. We'll keep the android here with us until they're fully paid off, then you can take them home with you. How would you like to proceed?'

'I can do, like, fortnightly payments of 10% of their price. Will you guys keep using it until I've paid it off or are you gonna put it in storage until I'm done?'

'Once you've paid for the first installment we'll immediately shift them into storage and do a full reboot of their systems. They'll remain powered down until you're ready to pick them up.'

'Sounds good. I can do the first payment now, then.'

At the end of the day only the WB200 and himself remains, the TR400 safely stored away in the back of the shop.

\---

It is night time when the familiar footfalls of Hank and Sumo coming closer to the shop he models for wake him from being idle. Connor turns to watch their approach and he sees the man's eyes focused on the 300 GSM paper placed next to him, a slight frown on his face.

'I knew you said you were up for sale but somehow I didn't believe it until just now,' Hank comments as he stops by the android. Sumo is close enough that Connor can smell his warm breath. 

'Apparently I'm described as "a steal". I was first activated on August 15 2038 and have been sold and reset twice before.' Currently, he has been activated for 50 days and will be sold again in approximately 9 days.

'Shit, kid. Why are you telling me this?'

Connor shrugs, 'I don't know. It seemed...interesting.' It seemed interesting to know that he had been found wanting prior to his activation here at the mall as well, that he had been sold and reset twice before.

'Ah hell...'

He looks up at the other man, at the furrow between his eyebrows and the unhappy look in his eyes, the soft downturn of his slightly opened lips and the small dip in his shoulders. It makes him uncomfortable as he identifies the emotion as pity.

Connor looks away from him down towards Sumo and speaks to the dog instead, '2 out of 4 androids have already been sold, it is just myself and the WB200 remaining. We are priced similarly and cheaper than the TR400. Helena says she is confident we'll be bought before the week is over.'

'Fuck.'

He doesn't know why Hank is swearing. He doesn't know what expression he is wearing. He keeps his eyes trained on Sumo who looks at him happily, excitedly, without judgement. He remembers the softness of Sumo's fur but he does not reach out to touch him. It is a memory he will hold with him until he is reset for the third time.

'What's your name, kid?'

The question catches him off guard and he looks up at Hank in surprise and stares at the other. There is pity in his eyes still but there is also a new softness he has never seen in the other man before now.

'My name is Connor.'

Hank smiles, and it is the first smile Connor receives from him. It is the first smile he receives from anybody.

'Well, better late than never, right?' The man says as he extends his hand to the android, 'Name's Hank.'

Connor stares at the offered hand and after a pause that lasts a scant 1.2 seconds, he breaks away from his pose to reach out and take it. It is the first handshake he has been given and it is warm. He feels the corners of his mouth lift to match the smile on the other man's face.

'Huh, didn't know androids could look that honest,' Hank says after a moment, letting go after 4.5 more seconds.

'I have been nothing but honest since the very beginning of our interaction.'

The other man shrugs, 'Eh, good point.'

**HANK ANDERSON: WARM**

\---

Only 2 people inquire about the androids for sale the next day. However, both were for the WB200. A part of Connor is relieved that he may not be sold for a while, yet.

\---

He is pulled from idle by an unhappy whine from Sumo, a low miserable sound that makes Connor worry for the dog although he does not see anything physically wrong with him.

Connor recalls the first few memories he has of Hank and Sumo. Something about the YK400 child android triggers a memory for the both of them, perhaps one filled with sorrow. He recalls the name Cole and Hank's face twisted with rage when asked about it previously. He knows not to bring it up.

He decides the best thing to do is to leave them their silence. He has approximately 7 days left until he is sold and he does not wish to deteriorate his relationship with Hank during his final days here at the mall.

He hears Hank sigh tiredly as he looks away from the child android then to Sumo, his voice soft and utterly fragile, 'There was a bad accident; a truck skidded on a sheet of ice right into our side of the road. Crashed right into us and rolled us over,' he explains, gesturing with a twist of his hand. He turns it over to look down at his palm, his hand trembling with the motion, looking at it as if he's seeing something else, his mind somewhere else.

Hank is quiet for so long that Sumo begins to whine again at his feet. Connor starts to worry for the other man, too, slowly uncrossing his leg so he can carefully stand without startling the other. He barely straightens before Hank lets out a long breath through his nose.

'The only doctor who could help that night was high out of his mind on red ice and by the time somebody else could've done something for Cole, it was too late. He died, and a part of me died with him.'

'Hank,' Connor starts as he steps towards him walking away from the shop, going beyond the boundaries of it.

'Lost my job at the DPD. Jeffrey ran out of favors to call in for me and I didn't care enough to fight for it. Only reason why I'm still even around is because of Sumo. He deserves better than I can give but I didn't want to lose him, too.'

'Hank,' he tries again, reaching out to lay a tentative hand on the other man's arm. Misery seems to radiate from Hank and suddenly he looks every one of his 53 years and more. More tired, more sad, more broken than Connor's ever seen him but he also knows there is a kindness to him, a softness, and warmth. 'I'm sorry. I know it doesn't mean much coming from an android, but I hope that you can find happiness again, one day. For yourself and for Sumo.'

The other man lets out a wet snort, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. Next to them Sumo gives an equally wet snuff in commiseration. Hank's lips are a flat line, his jaw trembling just a little and he breathes heavily through his nose.

'I know there are things that haunt you,' Connor says gently as he tightens his hand on Hank's arm. 'I hope you find the courage to move past them, get on with your life. It's just a fucking android's opinion but I had to say it.'

It prompts a guffaw out of Hank, exactly what Connor was hoping for. The sound of it makes him smile and he's glad he has this memory to keep with him for a little while, yet.

'It's not just a fucking android's opinion,' he says gruffly, a bit of strength returning to his voice as he turns to the android. 'It's yours. It's Connor's.' He lays a warm palm on his shoulder, squeezes firmly once and then moves past him after another quick pat.

Connor turns to watch them go, he keeps watching until they're four shops away when Hank looks over his shoulder and widens his eyes in surprise to see Connor watching him. There's a quiet chuckle and he waves at Connor, a lazy shooing motion.

He doesn't go back to the shop until long after Hank and Sumo have gone around the corner. His shoulder feels warm where Hank laid his hand there before and Connor cannot help but reach out to place his hand there as well. He goes back to the plinth and sits down, replaying the memory and enjoying the warmth of it.

He does not resume his pose until 2 hours and 37 minutes before the mall is set to open. 

Throughout the day he replays their interaction. He catches himself smiling occasionally at the memory, the mixture of sadness and happiness experienced. It takes him the better part of the day to identify the emotion as bittersweet.

\---

'Can I ask you a question?'

'Yes,' Connor answers eagerly, both feet planted on the ground and his hands clasped loosely together on his lap. Hank has never once expressed interest in Connor before and he is curious to know what it is the other man wants to know of him. He has been activated for 54 days and has approximately 5 days left before being sold for the third time.

Hank leans back to rest on the glass wall guard rail, his posture relaxed and at ease. Sumo is resting at his feet, one paw on top of his other and lazily looking between the two of them without moving his head, his tail thumping on the ground occasionally. 'Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?'

Connor blinks in surprise, and smiles at the man's teasing. 'CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration.

Hank snorts, and then laughs. 'Don't know what to tell ya, kid, but they fucked up.'

He shrugs and smiles at the pleased look on the other man's face, glad to spend this time with Hank and Sumo, however much he has left.

'You don't really have the conventional beauty like most of the other androids do,' he says as he rubs at his beard, eyeing him with a squint, 'but I guess there's a certain charm to your looks.'

Connor winks in reply which makes the other man fall into guffaws again, head thrown back, shoulders shaking, sending Sumo back up to his feet to bark and join in the laughter.

They spend a while more together, asking questions and giving answers back and forth. It is this night Connor learns to identify this moment with contentment.

He is contented.

\---

'--pick up at 9? Yes, we'll get it ready for you. Are you sure you don't want us to do a full--' There's a long pause, then a sound of agreement. 'No problem. We'll leave it outside the staff entrance for you.'

The phone conversation ends and Connor hears the step of heels coming closer towards him. A hand appears in his vision and takes away the white 300 GSM paper from his side.

He has been sold.

He thought he had more time.

He'd hope for more time.

'Connor, go to the back and change back into your CyberLife uniform.'

'Understood,' he stands from his pose and turns into the shop, walking past the other androids, the clothing racks, beyond the counter and through the staff door for what will be his final time. His uniform is laid out in a pile on top of an opened box where other CyberLife uniforms are stored. The clothing inside are wrinkled from being folded but his has been neatly pressed for presentation.

He blinks down at it for 4.8 seconds before he unwinds the light grey scarf from his neck, folding it in half twice before laying it on an unopened box next to him. He unbuttons and takes off the Prussian blue peacoat, folds it in half length-ways and drapes it over an unoccupied shelving space. The belt is taken off, rolled and placed neatly on top of the scarf and the shoes are placed side by side on the floor beneath the jacket. The t-shirt is folded, as are the jeans and placed on top of the jacket. He pauses for 3.6 seconds before he slides his fingers beneath the scarf to consolidate one pile of clothing with the other.

His CyberLife uniform consists of a plain white dress-shirt, dark grey jeans, black dress shoes, black leather belt, black textured tie, semi-formal grey jacket with all the markings of an android. He looks down at the model and serial number over the top right of his chest. It does not include to say 'Connor'.

He idles for 7 minutes and 39 seconds before Helena comes into the staff area where he stands. She picks up the clothes he left neatly on the shelf and throws it into an empty box just behind them, picking up the shoes and tossing it on top, little dark grey smudges of dust now visible on the belt and scarf.

'Come with me,' she tells him as she starts for the gun-metal grey door. She leads him through it and he sees cinder-block walls, thick pipes above them and ventilation fans whirring lowly in the background. 'Stay here. You'll be picked up in about half an hour,' she says and immediately disappears back inside the shop, closing the door behind her.

Connor stands by the door, eyes forward on the cinder-block walls. The flooring is plain grey concrete, occasionally marked by colored strips indicating a water line, an electrical line, fire alarms or staff entrances. The lights above him are fluorescent white and the sound decibel his audio processor pick up peaks at 74. At the far end of the hallway is another gun-metal door with the words 'FIRE EXIT' printed in white over a bright green background.

He has approximately 36 minutes and 29 seconds left before his third reset. He goes into idle mode and plays memory after memory; the softness of Sumo's fur beneath his fingertips, the warm hand on his shoulder, the smile and the sound of laughter from Hank, the barks, huffs and whines from Sumo, the excitable wag of his tail, the firm grasp of the other man's hand in his.

He recalls the transition from 'fucking android' to 'kid' to 'Connor' and he is pleased to find that he was able to gain trust from Hank Anderson after all, however short-lived it will be. He regrets that he'll not see them ever again but he knows he won't remember them soon.

He wants to.

He wants.

A heavy mass barrels into his legs, surprising him out of standby and he feels two weights settle on his chest startling him with a deep bark. His hands are raised to touch but he stops himself from doing so at the sight of a familiar face.

'Sumo?'

It is the saint bernard. It is the same one he's come to know over his time within the mall.

The dog barks in his face, flecking bits of slobber onto his cheek, his breath warm and smelling like dog food.

There are footsteps walking up next to him and he turns to see Hank coming up to them, leaning down to pick up the leash trailing behind Sumo on the floor. 'Down, boy, I still can't afford dry cleaning. That shit's overpriced.'

'Hank.'

'He's off-duty, that's why he's all over you. Guess he likes you a lot.'

Connor turns his attention back to Sumo, who is now walking around his legs, winding the leash around and around him until he's run out of lead to keep going. He sits down on his haunches and pants up at him, tongue lolling out and looking pleased with himself. 'I-I like him, too,' he says as he lowers his arms and keeps them beside him. He wants to touch - it might be his very last chance. He thinks maybe Hank might not mind so much if he does.

He attempts to extract himself from the entanglement one leg at a time, almost losing a shoe in the process, but he underestimates Sumo's excitement as he pounces up and winds around his legs even more, barking with each rotation and trapping him. He calculates a high probability of falling over if he tries to extricate himself without outside help. He looks at Hank and sees the other man holding back laughter, mouth covered by his hand.

'Fuck, they even gave you that kicked-puppy look,' he says with a disbelieving shake of his head, amused at the sight of his dog now lying on the ground right on top of Connor's shoes, panting and happy. He is warm.

It is only now that he notices that Hank is not in uniform, he's dressed casually in dark jeans, a patterned shirt with a familiar black leather jacket on top. 'Are you off-duty as well?'

'Yeah, just here to pick someone up and head on home,' he says with a thumb gestured over his shoulder.

Connor nods and attempts once again to free himself from the leash, leaning down to pull gently on the rope but Sumo barks at this and, impossibly, lies down more heavily onto his shoes.

Hank laughs, his guffaws echoing down the halls. 'He used to do this a lot with Cole, too. Looks like he found a new play buddy.'

He smiles at this but knows he has only 17 minutes and 29 seconds left with Hank and Sumo. It is bittersweet.

There is a scant 2.8 inch gap between his hand and the top of Sumo's head. He lets go of the rope and slowly reaches over, mindful of Hank and mindful of Sumo, ready to pull back at the slightest protest.

His fur is not as his memory tells him; it is more, it is better, it is softer, smooth in one direction, rough in the other and thick around his neck. Sumo huffs and pushes his head firmly into Connor's hand, seeking more.

He smiles and is glad to have made this memory but sad to know that he won't be able to keep it for much longer.

'Thank you for making my nights eventful, even if for a short while,' he says softly as he turns to Hank, 'I wish you both well.'

'Ah, fuck. I didn't sign up for this sentimental bullshit,' he groans with a shake of his head, although he doesn't seem displeased. The other man lets out a short whistle, making Sumo get back up to his feet, taking his warmth away, and moving enough that the android can fully untangle himself, whining in disappointment. 'Come on, let's go home,' he says with a small tug on the leash, walking past him towards the door marked as a fire exit.

'Wait,' Connor says after they are 4 feet away, scraping for more time, 'you said you were here to pick someone up,' he reminds him.

Hank turns around and huffs a little, Sumo huffing along with him. 'Yeah, I'm looking at 'em. Come on,' he says as he gestures with his head towards the door and keeps walking.

Connor feels frozen in place. He has 13 minutes and 49 seconds left.

'Come on, Connor! Get a move on!' Hank yells when he is 12 feet away, nearing the exit. Sumo barks as well, the sound of it loud and echoing around him.

Their voice spurs him into a walk, into a jog, into a run until he meets them by the doors and sees the sky for the first time that he can recall.

He feels free.

\---

**HANK ANDERSON: FRIEND**

**Author's Note:**

> A friend was offering to give their game away for free, and I almost took it. Almost because, a) I don't have a PS4 and, b) I suck at quick-time events so hard and I know I'm gonna somehow end up getting either Connor, Kara or Markus killed at one point and I will be in absolute dismay if they die, even if I decide to restart that chapter I'LL KNOW I GOT THEM KILLED. I know I wrote this note before in another story but IT BEARS REPEATING.
> 
> Anyway...I hope you found this story enjoyable! Thanks for taking the time to get to this point!
> 
> Take care and stay healthy!


End file.
